Poetry

was it me
was just the idea of it
was it I? in love?
or was in love for the idea of it
on and off, flashing lights
confusing signals, an electric shock
a defibrillator, yes, you said STAND CLEAR!
it was like being dead and alive and dead again
lost souls lost souls hovering on a flatline tone
wading in between
heaven and hell a repetitive motion of cleansing sins
of nonsense penitence of what went wrong or what was meant to be wrong
in a sea of submerged yawning heads, there are two tombstones
one crazy night
when our hands clasped
off, we went to the moon
and I find myself standing there
all alone